You Hate the People You Love the Most, Sometimes
by DianaM -again
Summary: To everyone else, he's some sort of hero. To one, he's just a big brother.


Falcon sat in the darkened hospital room, doing his best to ignore the beeping of the monitors and the steady whoosh of the ventilator. Almost 24 hours had passed. Had it been a day? Already? He couldn't believe it. Things had gone from zero to five million miles an hour, then stopped again.

It was already night again. A nurse had come in and flicked the light on, but Falcon couldn't be bothered to acknowledge her. After she left, he had gotten up and turned the damn thing off. The light made everything more real, and Falcon refused to accept that this was reality. Odd that some nightmares were worse away from the dark.

At least he was alone now. Alone in the dark. Alone with his thoughts and what was left of the man who only a few years ago, had been both his idol and a thorn in his side. How could so many different and opposing emotions be wrapped up in his gut?

_You hate the people you love the most, sometimes. Even that guy. The same guy who taught you how to ride a bicycle by pushing you down the hill and letting go, who laughed himself senseless when you fell in a heap on the asphalt, who blew on the road rash after Mamma poured on the peroxide to take the sting away. That guy. The guy who gave you the his game ball after the high school state championships, and tackled hard in every game of "two hand touch" you ever played. The guy who beat the crap out of the bully who took your lunch money for a straight month, who held you down and dangled loogies over your face. Taught you to swim and couldn't get enough of dragging you to the trough and tossing you in-even in winter. The guy who disappeared to Vietnam and came back with a handful of medals, a big straw hat for you and a dark look in his eyes that never fully went away-even when his short-lived but terrifying taste for liquor did. At least he came back from Southeast Asia. The coming home seemed to fade away over time. Eventually, you saw more of him on TV and in the papers than across the breakfast table. Tormentor. Bully. Hero. Big Brother. THAT guy._

The one lying in the bed over there.

The one hooked up to all those machines.

The one he couldn't look at but didn't want to leave.

Falcon wearily leaned back in the hard chair and let the recent past flood his mind.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The woman. Scarlett . The woman his brother loved but rarely spoke about to anyone at home. She'd rushed up and shoved Falcon aside to cradle his brother. By then, the pain had come to a head, and Falcon had found himself holding on tight to keep him from struggling and let Doc give him a shot of heavy painkiller.

What had gone so wrong, so quickly? From the moment he caught his collapsing brother, everything had tumbled to pieces.

"HOLD him!" Doc had demanded, "hold him still or I can't stabilize him." It was tough; Duke had always been strong, getting stronger. The strongest.

Falcon remembered his mother clucking over Christmas shirts, "I swear, Conrad, if you get any brawnier I'm going to have to tailor everything myself after buying it."

His shirt, soaked through with blood. There had been blood…everywhere. All over Duke's chest, soaking through his shirt and into his bandolier...his bandolier...that damn bandolier. Who wore bandoliers anymore? Soaking into Falcon's sleeves. All over Scarlett.

She'd run up, shoved him off, held his brother and commanded the man the way no one Falcon knew of had dared. Not even Pop.

"Dammit, Duke, stay still! Doc's going to help you, you have to let him. STAY STILL!"

Dammit, Duke. Dammit. Duke had looked up into her face, and Falcon saw…he saw something in his brother's eyes he'd never seen before. Trust. Yearning. Adoration? Duke was rarely an emotional guy as far as Falcon could recall. He remembered his brother's sheer joy after the State Championships. There had been some frighteningly low times when he came home from Vietnam. After that, not much. He certainly rarely made a fool of himself over a woman. Falcon had always admired what he had thought was his older brother's recent complete unwillingness to be tied down. Maybe he hadn't been seeing things properly. Perhaps, in the long run, it was more an unwillingness wear his heart on his sleeve.

Doc managed to grab an arm and jab in a needle. Duke's body relaxed visibly; although waves of pain made him convulse randomly, he was no longer in constant agony.

"Red…Red. This is…"

Her face had softened, "Hey, I'm here. Relax, I'm here with you. We're in this together, right? I'm here." She caressed his cheek, and Falcon had to look away when he saw his brother's eyes melt into tears. Duke never cried. Never. He'd fallen out of the old oak tree and broken his arm on Falcon's sixth birthday and not shed one tear. Falcon had cried; Pop had sent everyone at his party home so they could take Con to the hospital. No one had put the ice cream away and by the time they got back home, late that night, it had all melted and Falcon bawled.

As he looked away, Falcon saw Joes surrounded him.

How had everyone snuck up on him? Where did all these Joes come from? How had they gotten there so fast? Row upon row of shocked faces. Even the Rawhides were there. Jinx had looked at Falcon with wide eyes. He stood up, went to her, numb. There was no one else he felt a connection with. Her, maybe Slaughter, and the guy on the ground.

"Falcon…I…", Jinx gulped as Sgt. Slaughter pushed his way past and stood agog, "what can I tell you? He…he was trying to help you. He was leading us and he dropped it all to come and help you."

Recondo eyed him and chewed on his mustache, "what the hell went wrong, kid?"

Somewhere, fire had reached the gas tank on a wrecked vehicle; the loud explosion saved Falcon from having to come up with an answer.

"Duke, let me take it off, he needs to get at your chest," Falcon turned back to see Scarlett gently unbuckling his brother's bandolier. She had done her best to gently slide it out from under him. It was blotchy with dark patches of blood. Doc had ripped open Duke's sodden shirt to reveal a gaping wound. Blood seeped anew. Falcon looked across his brother's body to see Rock n' Roll's face fall, "he doesn't look good."

"Shut up…Duke gets back up every time. He's like a Timex. Takes a lickin', keeps on tickin'," Cross Country didn't really look like he believed what he had said. Not really.

"Scarlett…it hurts."

"Shhhhh, Duke."

"I don't think I'm-" but she cut him off, gently sliding her thumb over his mouth.

"Shhh. All you have to do is sit tight and hang in there with me. Stay with me, Duke."

"All I ever wanted to do was stay with you."

Her ponytail had slid over her shoulder and into Duke's face. He sneezed-it was almost comic-and a spray of blood had misted the air. Falcon didn't think he could ever forget the way his brother had bellowed; it was like a wounded animal.

Scarlett had braced his shoulders with her tiny hands, "oh, Duke, hang on, please hang on."

"Shana, I'm trying..."

Falcon couldn't watch. It wasn't right to watch. Why was everyone watching them? They should be alone. Jinx had come over and put her hand on his shoulder. Chuckles…Big Lob. Tunnel Rat wandered around next to Recondo.

"He's gonna be good, yeah? A few stitches, mebbe a little bit in bed, a few hot nurses give him a sponge bath or two, good as new. 'T's what everyone says," Tunnel Rat rubbed his pug nose with the back of his hand.

"Duke ALWAYS gets back up. Throws himself into the middle of it and then… He just…comes right back. He always does," Recondo's gruff voice wavered and he pulled of his boonie hat and looked at Rock N Roll, "since we first started, right, Rock?"

"He wouldn't have even gone down if it hadn't been-"

"Shut up, Rock n Roll. Duke does what he wants, this isn't Falcon's fault," _Cover Girl_... Cover Girl stood up for him, "you think he would let his own brother get cut down? Not Duke. Would you? Shut the fuck up."

"How is he, Scarlett?" Hawk was there. Someone had called Hawk, and he was there. And then...And then..he'd rather not remember that awful conversation. He let his mind wander past it.

In the end, Falcon found himself holding his brother to him, smearing more of Duke's blood over his own shirt. The coppery tang stinging his nose. Feeling his own tears hot on his cheeks. Truth be told, Duke wasn't feeling any more pain...but he wasn't HERE. Falcon wanted his brother up. He wanted Duke to get up and laugh at the whole thing, the way he had laughed when he'd been thrown from his stallion in the big storm a few years ago, on one of his rare leaves. They had been galloping home through the rain from securing the herd in the east pasture. Wally spooked at a sudden burst of lightning and clap of thunder. The stallion went one way, Duke went the other, tumbling out of his saddle and head over heels into a puddle. Falcon remembered watching as his muddy brother stood up, shook himself, laughed it off and gotten right back up in the saddle. As if it hadn't hurt, not even his pride.

_Wake up, Con. Get up. Ha. Get up and show me what to do next. Help me out, here, bro. Dammit, Duke. You gotta get up. Shake it off and laugh. We gotta go home._

It was awful. Blood and tears and the smell of burning gasoline and rubber. Doc somehow had called for medivac in the middle of all that.

The Tomahawk touched down and Lift Ticket hopped out with a stretcher, "Goddamn it, Lifeline's off in the fucking Himalayas. Why the hell would you send him away with me here and only Bill to back me up?" he had seen Duke and the blood, and stopped cold, "shit, Duke, that's a mess. Duke? You with us, big guy?"

"Less talk, more action, Lift Ticket," Hawk had glowered at the Tomahawk pilot, "get Duke out of here now! Give them room, people! "

Lift Ticket and Wild Bill jogged the stretcher over to where Duke lay comatose in Scarlett's tight embrace. "Top? You there, pard?" Wild Bill gently put his hand on Scarlett's shoulder when there was no response, "Big Red, what's happened to yer yeller bear?" Scarlett shook her head, tears still running down her cheeks. Falcon saw Wild Bill turn to regard him through his aviators. Aviators, in the dark. Always with the aviators. Bill turned back to Scarlett, his drawl softened into a purr, "aw, Red, sure as ever he ain't goin' nowhere without his little red fox, don't you think otherwise."

"I need that man out of here, stat, Bill. Get him on the stretcher, on that chopper and OUT! Every second you're wasting is one we don't have," Doc was in charge now, "I don't know how long he's going to keep breathing for himself, I need respiratory aid ASAP."

Bill and Lift Ticket bent to gently move Duke, but Scarlett at first refused to let him be taken from her. "Here, Red, don't fret none, we'll get him back, ornery as ever. I ain't yet known him to stay down for a full count. He'll have a nice smooth ride back home," Bill gently moved her arms from around Duke's neck and both he and Lift Ticket shifted the body onto the stretcher. Every eye followed them as they carried Duke to the Tomahawk.

"Scarlett, Falcon, get on that Tomahawk and get out of here," Hawk had given his hand to Scarlett and lifted her to her feet, "I want you both with him on that chopper. That's an order." Hawk walked Scarlett to the Tomahawk and helped her in. He turned and his eyes drilled into Falcon as he boarded the chopper, "Falcon, see to it that she's OK. I'll deal with withdrawal. When they're working on Duke, make sure you both get cleaned up, and get back there. Make sure she's not alone for long."

_But what about me? _

"Yessir." Falcon looked out the open doors over the the forlorn Joes. They looked lost. Man down. Their field commander. Down. Duke. Down. Jinx lifted her hand in a gentle wave. The rotors sped up as Lift Ticked prepared the Tomahawk for liftoff. Suddenly, Slaughter jogged over to the chopper, hollering to be heard over the noise of the blades, "Your brother's refused every commission they offered him because he wanted to stay with his men, Falcon. You couldn't pry Duke away from his Joes with a crowbar. He's going nowhere! Believe that!"

The chopper rose, and Falcon watched as the Joes grew small. He could hear Doc working behind him,"I need to get him on some of the Tomahawk monitors. Bill, get this sensor over his finger." A door banged shut as he pulled the hand respirator out of a cabinet, "Scarlett, we need to use this, his breathing's too shallow. Move over, please." Lift Ticket radioed ahead. Falcon refused to turn around. Scarlett was sobbing. Quietly, but she was sobbing. He didn't want to see it. He couldn't see it and not break down himself. He couldn't face his brother's motionless, bloody body.

His brother who had raced down the big hill in the summertime on his bike. Who had pushed Falcon down that same hill. His brother who had swung on the big knotted rope and let go to fly into the river, over and over again. Who had shown him how to do backflips into the pool at the YMCA. His brother who had dashed down the football field to glory in High School. His brother who had galloped across the meadows and pastures, jumping logs and whooping at the top of his lungs. Who had boxed his way to golden gloves, who had medaled in almost every gymnastics meet. His brother who liked to do donuts and burnouts on his motorcycle whenever he thought no one was paying attention. His brother who took sheer joy in getting up early to run six miles before breakfast. Who still showed off with one armed handstands. His brother who could fling a bale of hay farther than anyone else. He wasn't moving. He was still. He wasn't even breathing right.

They were met on the roof of the Joe Hospital by a team of people in white coats with a gurney. Doc jumped out past Falcon and met the team as they ran to the Tomahawk. Coats and hair blew in the gusts from the slowing rotors. Wild Bill gently pushed Falcon over to one side. " 'Scuse me, kid. We gotta get yer big bro' here on that trolley," Bill turned to grab an end of the stretcher as Lift Ticket pushed it out the door. Both men hefted Duke out of the chopper. Falcon looked down and saw Duke's face had grown pale under the respirator mask.

They set Duke on the gurney, and Doc and the white coats and nurses quickly whisked him across the roof and through a door. Lift Ticket took the stretcher back to the Tomahawk and secured it back in its place. Scarlett jumped down through the door and onto the roof, her face set in a determined glare, "I'm going with them. I'm not leaving him alone in there."

Bill put his hands on her shoulders, "Now, Red. There ain't nothing you can do in there. Shoot, they won't let you in the ER 'cause they don't need to be trippin' over you."

"I don't care, Bill. He shouldn't be alone."

"Yer yeller bear ain't alone, Red. Doc's with him. You know he trusts Doc. Doc's pulled him through time 'n time again."

"Let me go, Bill."

"Darlin' he knows you love him, ain't nothin he knows more'n that. Think he'd want you to stand around in them dirty things worryin'? We're goin' to base. You'n me, ElTee and th' kid there," Falcon stepped back as Scarlett turned and looked at him with two laser blue eyes. Her face was smudged and streaked by the tracks of tears, "you two'll get cleaned up, maybe get some chow, and, heck, I'll bring you both back myself," Scarlett, exhausted, relented and let Bill guide her back to the Tomahawk. Falcon felt superfluous and in the way. He didn't know where to look or stand.

Scarlett stopped in front of him. He couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze, "Falcon. It wasn't your fault. I want you to know that. I don't think it was your fault. Duke..." Falcon lifted his head. Tears were streaming down her face again,"...Duke was always the type of man to throw himself at things full tilt. He was worried about you...he...Here, get into the Tomahawk. I… I want to talk to you on the way back to base."

They both climbed into the chopper and were, for the second time that day, lofted into the sky. Wild Bill leaned against the framing. Scarlett lowered herself onto a seat and indicated that Falcon should sit next to her. Wearily, warily, he lowered himself. He put his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands, scrubbing his fingers through hair stiff with sweat and battle grime. He imagined some of Duke's blood was in there. His shirt certainly stank of it.

Scarlett gently rested a hand on his back, "Falcon...Vincent. You can't blame yourself."

"Why not? If it hadn't of been for me, if he hadn't of come to help me...it would never have happened. He'd still be walking around. He wouldn't have fought Serpentor, he..."

"Three weeks ago Duke tangled with Serpentor in the Himalayas, kid," Bill, for once, sounded serious, "A few months ago, he was smackin' Bludd around. Last summer, I saw him take on five vipers with a broken chair. A year ago, he broke three fingers socking Destro. I've watched him fling himself right into the middle of every fight he's come near. The day I met him he got into a barfight for the Hell of it. Yer brother's a brawler, no doubt about it. You can't tell me he wouldn't have been there anyway. Serpentor got away and he took it personally."

"Yeah," Falcon rubbed his head again, "and I was responsible for _that,_ too."

"Falcon," Scarlett rubbed his back gently, "It doesn't change anything, this going back over everything. You came with Slaughter when we needed help, you were doing good out there."

He turned and looked at her, "Tell me, please, why did he do it? Why'd he step in front of that spear? The last three years, we've saw him at home all of twice. Twice! My baby sister worships him, and why? He never comes home. He's missed Christmases, birthdays, Thanksgivings, my high school graduation-shit _most _of my graduations...now all of a sudden he's taking a hit for me?" the bitterness all bubbled up, "I was such a fuck-up, he never wanted to see me." Falcon looked back at the floor.

"The night before your hearing, your brother didn't sleep!" Scarlett leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, "he was a wreck, I've never seen him that way. For once, he was at a complete loss...Falcon, Vincent, look at me," she put a hand softly on his cheek and turned him to face her, "He was worried about you. Look, when you first got on base, he started acting, well, off. Not himself. I knew something was up, but I couldn't get it out of him. Something was eating him and he wouldn't tell me what."

"And trust me, Kid, Red can usually get anything outta Duke," Bill lowered his aviators and winked at Falcon over the rim.

"Bill," Scarlett sighed, "Vincent, I get it now. He loves you, that's all. You're his little brother, and he loves you. He worried so much about you. You have to know that. Love is not an easy thing for him to talk about," she turned and looked out the window. They were approaching base. Falcon heard Lift Ticket radioing for clearance. When Scarlett turned back, her eyes were brimming, "trust me, I know. But, you have to understand, with Duke, he shows you instead of telling you. He's never going to recite poetry, but he'll go to the end of the Earth for the people he cares about," she wiped away an errant tear.

"We've both been with Duke from the start of this whole outfit, Kid," Wild Bill grabbed a strap and hung on as the Tomahawk dropped to touch down on the landing pad, "Duke wouldn'tve brought ya here if he didn't think you had the goods," Bill grabbed his hat, swatted it against his leg, and shoved it back on his head, "Let's go, boys and girls. Hawk says you both gotta get freshened up and go back."

"Yeah, get outta my chopper and go hose off. You both smell." Lift Ticket smiled and jumped out to do a final walk around. Scarlett grabbed Duke's bandolier and let Bill give her a hand out of the chopper. He gave her a quick hug.

"Hurry back Red, I'll getcha both back to Duke in two shakes of a lamb's tail," Scarlett rested against Bill for a moment, allowing her exhaustion to show. She kissed his cheek.

"Thanks, Bill, I'll be quick. Falcon, get a move on. You're coming back with me."

Falcon thought he couldn't go another few minutes, let alone the hours that loomed ahead, but he managed to drag himself back to his quarters. Troops were arriving back from the battlefield, and he deliberately avoided every single one who tried to stop him. Every one except Jinx. She was waiting outside his door, "Falcon, how is he? Is he awake?"

Falcon pulled his keycard out of his pocket and let himself in, Jinx stepping into the doorway behind him, "I dunno. We landed, they rolled him inside, here we are. For all I know, he's dead."

"Don't say that, Falcon. That's bad luck."

"Right, because, after all, I wouldn't want to break the streak of amazing luck I've been having up until now," Falcon kicked off his boots, "I need a shower. How'd you get cleaned up so fast?"

"I don't like long showers. I rushed to see you. I wanted to be sure you were OK," she came in and lined his boots up neatly against the wall, "I, well, I just wanted to see," she slid down onto his chair. Her hair was still wet; it lay flat and sleek across her head.

"I'm fucking peachy. Banner day. I gotta scrape this muck off and get back to the hospital. I want to be there, if...in case...well, whatever happens. I want to be there," Falcon walked through his bedroom to the shower, stopped, turned and walked back to her.

"I'm sorry, Jinx. I am. Thanks for caring. Thanks for checking up on me. You're amazing," He tried to give her a smile, but was too tired to be sure it came out right, "I really want to get back there."

She smiled at him, "go, shower. Go back. Come see me when you get back here," she rose and walked to the door, looking back over her shoulder at him.

"Count on it, Jinx," he smiled as she waved and walked out, shutting the door softly behind her. There was a muffled thud and an exclamation of dismay as she collided with someone in the hallway. Falcon wondered how, with all the shit he'd brought down, he'd managed to come out on top with her, but right now, he wouldn't have it any other way.

He turned on his shower and stripped off his grimy fatigues. The front of his shirt had dried stiff with Duke's blood. Falcon held it up to his nose and wondered why he wasn't disgusted. _This is my brother's blood. He bled for me._

He climbed under the showerhead and started to scrape the crud off. It wasn't hot enough; he wanted it blazing. He wanted to feel raw. Falcon turned it as hot as he could stand it. _What am I going to tell Mamma? What can I say? _In the entire family, Con was entirely hers. He was utterly of her; his father long dead. They shared something the rest of them couldn't; something neither he nor his sisters or stepfather couldn't understand and would never be a part of. _How can I tell her that might disappear? _

Falcon stepped out, dripping, onto the tiles and toweled himself off. Rubbing his hair roughly, he wandered out into his room and over to his dresser. He pulled on fresh boxers and a T shirt, and let his mind and gaze wander. There it was. The game ball. The State Championship Game Ball. The motherfucking pigskin. Falcon angrily turned his back and slid into a clean pair of camo fatigues. He threw open his closet and ripped out a new shirt.

And turned back to the ball. The Championship ball. The cheers, the celebrating. In the middle of it all, all the joy and triumph and laughter and everything, Con had grinned down at him and tossed him the ball, "Here, Vince, _you _keep it. I want _you _ to have it." A sudden pop and flash announced someone had taken a picture. He remembered the feeling of pride as he carried that ball through the crowds, to the car. People passing by, slapping Con on the back, shaking his hand, kissing his cheek. They looked down on him and slapped his back, too. Shook his hand, too. Kissed him, too. Smiled and laughed with him, too. "You got the ball, Vince?" "Yeah! YEAH! Kid, YEAH!" "Cougars! Cougars!"

_He made me part of it. _Falcon picked up the ball, it's familiar soft leather comforting in his hands. _He'd made MVP, they'd won the game, and he made me part of it. He wanted me to be part of it._

It didn't matter that the week after, Con had dropped his butt into the horse trough once again for the Hell of it. Or grabbed his arms and spun him around until he threw up his pancakes. _He gave me his ball._ Falcon cradled the ball. He'd kept it, it was lucky. He'd shown it off to all his friends; even taken it to school that Monday for Show and Tell; he never let anyone play with it again. Somehow, he figured it just had to be lucky. He kept it on his nightstand, and when Con disappeared to 'Nam, leaving him to try and sleep alone in a room bereft of his brother's light snores... some nights he'd whisper to his brother _through _it. Or, anyhow, he hoped somehow his brother would get that he was talking to him. When Falcon himself left for basic, it was only natural he'd take his lucky ball with him. When he moved on to Special Forces School, the ball went, too. When, an incredulous Captain brought him re-assignment to the Joes along with a disbelieving smirk, the ball was the first thing he packed.

_He made me part of it. _

Falcon was startled out of his reverie by a knock at the door, "Falcon, you ready?"

"In a second, Scarlett," Falcon dropped the ball on his bed, quickly buttoned his shirt, grabbed socks and reached for his boots, "come in while I get my boots on," seeing they were crusty with grit and mud, he cursed and shoved them on anyway.

She pushed the door open, "Let's go, Bill is waiting with a transport chopper on the pad. Faster than driving," she was clean and all back in order. More than that, she was back in control. She'd had time to compose herself, or maybe been able to temporarily shove the present out of her mind.

Falcon picked up his ball and stood, staring at the bandolier in her right hand. Maybe she hadn't. Everyone had something they needed to hang on to, now and again. Clean and refreshed from the showers, a small duffle bag slung over her left shoulder, she still looked weary around the eyes. Eyes which fell to the ball in his hands and then back up to Falcon. He met her gaze and shrugged.

"He was MVP. He gave it to me. He made me part of it..." felt he was babbling lamely.

"C'mon, Falcon, let's go." He gently put the ball on his nightstand and followed her out the door.

They met Wild Bill at the landing pad. Falcon was only slightly surprised to see a basic transport chopper-no Tomahawk, no dragonfly. Justifying a Tomahawk for a cross-town jaunt was impossible, and a dragonfly on seated two. A chopper was a chopper.

The ride back to the hospital seemed to take forever. Scarlett stared down at Duke's bandolier, running her fingers again and again over the brass buckle, lost in some memory of her own. Falcon alternated between watching her and trying to keep the ache out of his gut. It gnawed at him; worry of what they might walk into once they got into that hospital. No one had radioed any updates since Duke had been taken down; he had no clue what he might find. Vincent never liked going in blind. Not with such a sense of foreboding.

He remembered that awful day, the last time Duke ever came home. He remembered walking into something so normal and having it twist round to Hell on him.

_"Don't ride into the west pasture," Duke had slammed the screen door and sat down at the kitchen table to wolf one of the three sandwiches Mamma had made for him. He smelled of horses and sweat and fresh cut alfalfa, "it's infested with gophers."_

_Vincent laughed, "what are they going to do, drag us off our horses and nibble us to death?" Drew and Jennifer giggled along with him._

_"Just don't go there, OK? It's dangerous."_

_"Sure, whatever," Jennifer laughed, "we'll stay away from the big bad rodents. What is is, a Cobra plot? Mutant Gopher Vipers?"_

_Drew laughed like a drain, "Gopher Viper Attacks! They ride little Hiss tanks. They're lead by Captain Whiskers of the the Field Mouse Brigade."_

_Even Mamma laughed at that one._

_Duke rolled his eyes, "Whatever, keep your horses out of the west pasture till I get rid of them and fix it up."_

_Mamma turned on Duke and berated him for overworking himself on leave. It was almost like the conversation had never happened._

_It was a hot summer. Blazing. The next day was sweltering, and there was nothing for it but for Vincent, Jennifer and Drew to head out to the river and the rope swing. So they packed sandwiches, chips and lemonade and saddled up their horses and Drew's pony for a ride. They cut through the west pasture without a second thought; it was the fastest way. Nothing bad happened, and they messed around in the river and ate and messed around some more. By the time they headed back, it was beginning to grow dusky._

_"We better hurry," Jennifer groaned, "Pop is always pissed if we're late for supper."_

_"We'll cut back through the pasture and be there before he even notices," Vincent winked and laughed._

_"Let's gallop! Let's ride! Go Sparkle!" Drew whooped to her pony and they both took off._

_"I can't believe she named that thing Sparkle," Vincent rolled his eyes and kicked his mare after her, Jennifer on his heels. They all laughed and hollered across the gentle rolling hills of the pasture. It was a perfect day._

_Right up till Drew's pony came up short, squealed, and went down in a heap. Drew was flung from her saddle and landed hard. Vincent reined Misty to a stop and was at Drew's side in a second. She was bawling. In the next instant, Jennifer was there, "Drew! Are you OK?" Drew screamed. Her pony rolled and squealed. Vincent turned to Jennifer, "Stay here, try and calm her down, I'm gonna go get help!" He flung himself on Misty's back, walloped her and took off._

_In no time, he was running up the back porch and throwing himself into the kitchen. Pop, Mamma and Duke were all there. Mamma was getting supper ready, and Duke and Pop both sat at the table, the chessboard between them. All three looked up in shock._

_"Drew's pony fell over and threw her in the west pasture! I think she's hurt!"_

_Mamma rushed to a cabinet and pulled out her first aid kit. Pop headed for the door and called back to Duke, "I'll saddle Wally, too, get a move on! Jane, you can ride with me."_

_Vincent turned to follow, but stopped when he saw Duke head into the den, "Wait, what are you doing? We have to-" Duke came back with his hunting rifle and a box of ammunition._

_"Didn't I tell you to stay OUT of that pasture? Shit, Vincent, why don't any of you listen? It isn't a joke now, is it?"_

_"What's the rifle for?"_

_"Shut up. Let's go, Mamma and Jack are already gone," Pop had left Wally saddled and tied to the gate. Duke shoved a few rounds in his pocket, crammed his rifle into its saddle sheath and slung himself into the saddle. Vincent climbed onto Misty, "Fuck!" Duke yelled as he kicked Wally into a gallop. They heard the pony's screams long before they got within sight of her._

_By the time they had gotten back to Drew and Jennifer, Mamma had given Vincent's littlest sister a good going over. Pop was trying to calm Sparkle. Jennifer held Drew while Mamma cleaned and soothed her, "Thank goodness, it's just abrasions. You'll be fine, a good amount of scabs, but you'll be OK."_

_Duke dismounted and crouched by his baby sister, "yep, Rabbit. You'll look like a strawberry, but it'll go away. Gopher vipers got ya, huh?" He stroked her head gently and looked over at Jennifer, "Now you see how gophers can be trouble? One step in a hole and it's over. Still feel like laughing? You're lucky she didn't break her neck," Duke stood and walked over to where Pop stood staring at Sparkle. The pony rolled and squealed, "Left foreleg looks shattered. I can see bits of bone."_

_"It's gone. That isn't a leg anymore." Jack's voice was dark and quiet, "you know what has to be done."_

_"I figured as much," Duke went back to Wally and pulled out his rifle. Vincent watched his brother's eyes flash angrily in gloaming, "waste of a good horse," he loaded and chambered a round. The sound made Vincent and Jennifer jump, and brought Drew to her senses. She stared up at her Big Brother. He avoided her gaze, "Mamma, take Wally and Drew and go home. Jennifer, you get on Rusty and you go too. Vince, follow them."_

_"What about you?"_

_"I'm walking back tonight."_

_Drew let Mamma stand her up, "Wait, what are you doing? Shouldn't we call the vet?" Sparkle's squeals were bloodcurdling._

_Vincent saw Duke set his jaw, his voice was rough , "No. Rabbit. We aren't calling the vet."_

_Jack glanced over at his son, then back at his stepson, "Maybe he should stay for this. I think he needs to see-"_

_"What are you DOING?" Drew struggled as Mamma led her to where Wally waited._

_"No," Vincent saw his brother pinch the bridge of his nose and then look over at him. Their eyes met, and for the first time Vincent could remember, Duke looked sad, "No, he doesn't need to see this. Not now. Not yet," Duke turned towards where Sparkle struggled to stand, "Jack, you're going to have to try and hold her head. I don't want to miss."_

_"What ARE YOU DOING!" Drew screamed and as Mamma tired her best to hang onto her._

_"Vincent, help me get her up here. Drew, Drew, calm down. There's nothing we can do," Vincent helped his mother bundle Drew onto Wally. Mamma held her on the stallion as he skittered sideways, complaining about the weight of a different rider._

_"What are you DOING! NO!"_

_Vincent threw a leg over Misty and rode up next to Mamma. Pop turned to them, "She's suffering, baby. You don't want Sparkle to suffer, do you? Listen to her. It's the best thing. It's the kindest thing."_

_"Duke, NO. Don't! SPARKLE!"_

_"Get out of here, Rabbit. Go home. Now," Duke threw the command over his shoulder, "Mamma, get her away. Get as far away as you can get."_

_"Vincent, Jennifer, let's go home," Mamma urged Wally into a canter and Vincent found himself following on one side, Jennifer on the other._

_"Don't, NOT Sparkle! Not my pony! No! I HATE YOU. I HATE you!" Drew screamed. Looking back, Vincent saw Duke sag his shoulders, then straighten and lift his rifle. He and Pop strode towards the screaming pony. The squeals chased Vincent through the dark and over the grass as they rode for home._

_They were out of the pasture and most of the way to the stable when the gunshot cracked through the evening air. The squealing stopped._

_Duke didn't come home that night. Vincent stayed awake long past midnight, and Duke didn't come home. Not till much later the next day. Another day and night passed before he spoke to anyone._

_"Hey, Kid, wake up."_

Falcon found himself being shaken awake. He opened his eyes to see Wild Bill standing over him, "We're back. Big Red, she's already in there. Head on down. I can't keep the chopper out here; this landing pad's gotta stay clear for emergencies," Bill thumped him on the shoulder, "Get in there. Someone will come pick you both up later."

Falcon climbed to his feet and jumped down out of the helicopter. Wild Bill pointed at the same doors Duke had been rolled through before, "Get in there, and go down to ER. First floor. Chances are, y'can figure out where to go from there. Hey," Falcon felt Bill's hand on his shoulder, and he turned to gaze through the aviators, "Yer brother, he's...he...he's always done what has to be done. When the chips are down. When all bets'r off. He does it. When no one else will, he does it. He ain't one to look about for accolades. He just _does_, is all," Bill tilted his head, "it's why he always throws himself into th' middle of things, not a second thought. I use t' think he was a damn crazy bastard. Sure, he likes to fight'n all. But he fights 'cause others can't."

"Thanks, Wild Bill," Falcon wasn't sure what to say. _That's when Con became Duke. That's when it happened. When he took on all the things no one else wanted to do._

"Get down there, kid."

Falcon went through the doors and found himself standing next to Scarlett in front of elevator doors. She was staring fixedly at the arrows above the door, her hands twisting Duke's bandolier absent mindedly. He nodded at the duffle bag, "What's in the bag?"

Scarlett's eyes remained riveted on the arrows, "I stopped by Duke's quarters and grabbed a few things. The book he was reading, his shaving stuff, toothpaste and a brush, something to sleep in. He hates those hospital gowns," the elevator binged, the down arrow lit up, and the doors slid open. Scarlett and Falcon stepped inside. He mashed the button for the first floor.

"You managed to get General Hawk to drop everything and let you in?"

"No, I have a copy of his key," Scarlett's stare now clung to the light falling through the numbers on the panel in front of them.

"You have a-" Falcon felt himself blush, "ah. Yeah, OK. Nevermind." They both were quiet for a minute. It was uncomfortable, and Falcon decided to brave breaking the silence, "um, he'll probably be pretty happy you thought of that."

"I'm hoping," she ran her hand through her bangs and turned to him, "the last time he was here he refused to cooperate with the nurses 'till they'd let me bring him some sweats, a t-shirt and five of Roadblock's hamburgers. Made a big pain of himself. Nurse Matthews was fit to be tied," Scarlett smiled.

"Sounds like Duke, all right."

"Was he stubborn, when you were growing up?"

Falcon leaned against the wall and looked at her; she was pretty, rather petite and nothing like his brutish brother. No wonder Duke had fallen for her, "I guess you could say that. You'd have to ask our mother. To me, he was, you know, a brother. Sometimes he was fun, sometimes he helped me out. He beat up all the bullies and stuff..."

"Sounds like Duke," her lips curled into a peaceful smile.

"...sometimes he was a big jerk," Falcon slapped the wall of the elevator with the flat of his hand as Scarlett laughed.

"Now he sounds like a brother!" The elevator reached the bottom floor and the doors slid open to reveal the emergency room. Falcon and Scarlett jogged through the waiting room to the nurses' station where a pretty young nurse sat behind a computer, "We're looking for-"

"Hauser? Of course you are, Scarlett," A matronly woman came up behind them and smiled warmly. Her badge announced she was the famous nurse Matthews, "they're still in with him. Wild Bill radioed you were on your way down and Dr. Greer sent me out to greet you. I see you've brought his pajamas," she indicated the duffle and looked over at Falcon, "are you Hauser the younger?" she turned her motherly gaze to Falcon.

"Ummm, sort of. Falcone, ma'am."

"Dr. Greer said you were his brother."

"I am, ma'am. Same mother, different Pop."

"You still qualify as next of kin," Nurse Matthews walked out from behind the desk with a clipboard full of forms, "has your mother been informed of what's going on?"

The last thing Falcon wanted to know was the contents of the forms Nurse Matthews held, and he ignored the clipboard when she offered it to him, "no ma'am, I haven't had time."

"I called." All three turned to see Hawk walking through the waiting room behind them. He stopped and put a hand on Falcon's shoulder, "I figured you wouldn't mind, son. They're on their way. Your mother wanted to be here, in case..." Hawk let the unsaid lie still and turned to Nurse Matthews, "what's going on in there, nurse?"

"The surgeons managed to stop the bleeding as much as they could. It took a while to assess the damage. I'll let them fill you in on that one. They had to intubate him, he stopped breathing a half hour after he came in," Falcon heard Scarlett gasp. His own face went cold. Nurse Matthews didn't pull any punches, "he's a fighter, that one, though. Heart kept pounding right on through. Seems whatever he was hit with missed it by inches. Funny thing about rib cages; they do a good job of protecting what's inside, even if they do crack a little Right now they're working putting him back together and stitching him up."

Scarlett stepped back and sank into a chair, twisting the bandolier tightly in her hands, "will he wake up when they're done?"

Nurse Matthews turned to her and sighed, "I may be head nurse, Scarlett, but you're really going to have to wait for the surgeons to fill you in fully," she looked back at Falcon, "and the person they'll tell the most to is _him._"

Two sets of eyes turned to Falcon. He took a step back under the weight of their gaze, "Me? You're kidding. He's a General, and she's...well, honestly."

"You're his blood brother. Half or full, you're legally the closest to next of kin in the room, until his mother gets here."

"Whatever anyone has to tell me, _she'd_ better be there, too," Falcon pointed at Scarlett, "and you better let her everywhere you let me, I can make myself very annoying to have around, otherwise."

Nurse Matthews raised an eyebrow, "now I see the family resemblance."

"...and General Hawk, too." Falcon crossed his arms over his chest and set his jaw.

"More and more. You glare just like him. I can't _wait _to meet your mother," Nurse Matthews sighed, "wait here, I'm going back into the ER. Doctor Greer should be able to come out and fill you in, the surgeons can spare him," she walked purposefully past the desk and through a set of double doors warning _No Entry._

Scarlett sighed and let herself relax, "Thank you, Falcon," her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, well, he'd want that. You know," he rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor. He sat in a chair next to her and then remembered the General and sprung up again, "Oh, Sir! Sorry, sir."

Hawk dismissed the transgression with a wave, "Take your cue from Scarlett, son. Relax. I won't harp on regulation right now. Sit down, we're all tired. Been a long day, and it's nowhere near over," he stepped over to the other side of Scarlett and sat down, "I imagine you're tired of people telling you about your brother," his voice and eyes were kindly; not the man who had only recently sent Falcon to the Slaughterhouse, "but do you mind if I tell you a little more?"

"Sir?"

"I've known Duke since before I put the outfit together. He's been working for me, one way or another, for a long time. Before these stars. This is pretty much the first time I've had to manage without him, " Hawk rubbed his chin, "it feels like someone's cut my arm off. We're going to have to go after the B.E.T. as soon as we figure out where Cobra's stashed it. That means assessing, strategizing. My field commander's incapacitated. I'd rather throw my troops into battle handcuffed together than without Duke."

"Sir."

"He's strong, quick, loyal, dependable. He's a demon on the battlefield and a bastard in a fistfight."

"Sir."

"He's only ever managed to really piss me off me twice. The first time, I found out he'd broken almost every fraternization regulation in our book and still has every intention of doing so."

Falcon couldn't help but glance at Scarlett. Hawk stared at the floor, his voice dropped, "the second time, he chose to hide the truth about you from me."

"So he let you down..."

"I said 'pissed off', not 'let down', son, there's a difference," Hawk sighed, "look, he's _not_ perfect, despite what people have probably been telling you for the past several hours.I was angry he'd started...spending time...with Scarlett," he put a hand on her arm, "but he's human, he's got feelings and it would have been cruel to force him to ignore them. I let them both bend the rules. If anything, it made them both stronger. Truth be told, every man needs to decompress now and again."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't think I'm unaware of Jinx."

"No, sir," Falcon blanched.

"We'll figure it out later. Thanks to your brother and Flint, I'm getting used to the whole concept," Hawk leaned forward, warming to a point, "when I found out about you, I don't think I've been angrier. What in Hell's name possessed him to sneak you past me?"

"I think it was our mother, sir," Falcon looked at Scarlett, who shrugged and smiled.

"Could be," Hawk mused, "When faced with a choice between listening to his mother or his C.O. many men are stuck. But I think there's more to it. Falcon..."

"Sir?"

"Like I said, Duke's worked with me for a long time. He's been running my Joes since the start. He knows what makes a good one."

"Yes, sir."

Hawk leaned back in his chair, "never in a million years would he let anyone set foot on this base he didn't think could hack it. Whatever strings he pulled to bring you here, for him, it was worth it, even if he wasn't entirely sure of it himself at the time. Sometimes, gut instinct works out better than logic. He took a gamble. It was a good one. And here we are."

Falcon hung his head. It would have been perfect if the Gambler wasn't on the table in the ER, "Thank you, sir," he set his chin in his hands.

"Why aren't they _telling _us anything?" Scarlett stared down the doors to the emergency rooms as if she could scare them into spitting out a surgeon.

Almost on cue, Doc walked out. It was odd, seeing him without his helmet decked out in a white coat. There was a smear of blood across one lapel. He saw them and pushed past the reception desk to where they sat, face was unreadable. Hawk stood. Scarlett sat up eagerly and clutched Dukes bandolier to her chest. Falcon rubbed his head and leaned back in his chair.

Doc sat next to Scarlett and took her hand. His eyes met Falcon's, "they're closing him up-last few stitches. He'll be moved to the ICU as soon as they're done. He's stable, for now."

It wasn't enough for Falcon, "the nurse said he stopped breathing..." In front of him, Hawk started; he hadn't heard that part.

"He's on a ventilator. He did stop breathing. They intubated him quickly. He wasn't without oxygen for long," Doc removed his glasses and polished them with his handkerchief, "I doubt there's any permanent brain damage."

"Is he...is he awake? Will he wake up in ICU?" Scarlett's eyes gleamed hopefully.

"No. He's still comatose. We're not entirely sure why. It seems to be how he reacts to severe trauma. The last time, the concussion from the explosion and the force of hitting the water on his back from such a height sent him into one. This time; I don't know. The pain was intense, even after everything I gave him. The surgeons found that Serpentor's spear broke three ribs; one lacerated his lung. It may be that Duke just escapes out of consciousness to avoid it all," Doc put his handkerchief back in his pocket and balanced his glasses back on his nose, "they've closed up his lung and patched up all the damaged blood vessels; put the ribs back in place so they _should _knit well, if he stays still enough."

"Hunh," Falcon grunted, "Ironic, isn't it? He's not moving, anyhow."

Scarlett scowled at him, then turned back to Doc, "so it's like last time?"

"Deeper. To be realistic, it's still touch and go. There was a lot of damage. We're lucky it missed his heart. We're worrying about a possible poison and probable infection; he's on massive amounts of antibiotics, just to be safe," Doc looked up at Hawk, "I'd like permission to stay here, Hawk. I want to keep on top of this. I've pulled that man through too many things to let him go easy now."

Hawk sighed and rubbed his eyes, "Lifeline missing, you here, what am I supposed to do for a medic?"

"Kelley's ready. He's a Greenshirt, but he's a good doctor. They call him McCoy," Doc smiled.

"You're kidding me," Hawk rolled his eyes, "McCoy?"

"I think Sci Fi came up with that one," Doc grinned.

Scarlett laughed. Falcon felt lighter. A little levity didn't hurt, a bit of distraction was OK. Just for now.

"Fine," Hawk slapped Doc on the shoulder, "stay with Duke. I'll take Dr. McCoy. Keep an eye on my First Shirt. Let me know as soon as anything changes, no matter where I am, let me know," Nurse Matthews broke through the ER doors and walked up to Doc.

"Doctor Greer, they're moving Sargent Hauser to the ICU. Dr. Makenzie is cleaning up and the team wanted to go over the surgery with you."

Doc nodded, "very good, nurse. Is he ready for visitors?"

Nurse Matthews smiled at the group, "They can go in," her lips drew into a frown as she glanced down at Falcon's boots, "young man, those filthy boots aren't going anywhere _near _the ICU! Frankly, I don't want them in my waiting room."

"What do you expect me to do, nurse? Wash them off in the bathroom sink?"

"Don't you dare. Take them off here, I'll find you some of the surgical booties," she stalked off to a supply room.

Falcon shuddered at the word _booties. _But he gave ground; it was an easy sacrifice to make. He untied his boots, kicked them off, and sat in his socks. Nurse Matthews returned with what appeared to be a set of blue elasticated baggies and a large orange biohazard bag. She held the orange bag open in front of Falcon, "drop them in here, kiddo, and slip these over your socks. Scarlett, I hate to say it, and I know you meant well, but..dear, he won't need those things yet."

Scarlett grabbed the strap of the duffle as she stood up, "_yet."_

Falcon was so tired, he felt like he was watching them all through a lens. Everything seemed somehow one step removed. It wasn't real. He pulled himself to his feet and followed as Nurse Matthews and Doc lead them to the Intensive Care Unit.

Reality shattered the lens and smashed home with a vengeance when he stepped into dark room to see his brother. He lay tucked under sheets, his arms straight down his sides; the big man for once dwarfed by the banks of monitors, IV lines and machines surrounding him. Tubes and wires were everywhere. On his right hand fingers, in his arms, down his throat. Tubes ran out from under the sheets to bags and ports on and behind the bed. A steady, frightening sonata of beeps and whooshes filled the room. Falcon found himself rooted to the spot.

Scarlett set down the duffle, grabbed a chair and dragged it around to the left side of the bed. She sat and reached for his hand, dropping his bandolier into her lap, "Duke. Duke," she whispered. Falcon's heart ached to hear the yearning in her voice. "Hey," she stroked his head, brushing his short hair back off his forehead, "Hey, I'm here. I'm back with you," Duke gave no sign of response. Not a brow twitch, not an eyelid flutter. His hand stayed limp in hers.

Falcon crept over to Doc, "Can he hear her, Doc? Do you think he knows we're here?"

"It's hard to say, Falcon. Some people who have come out of comas describe listening to the people around them. Others don't remember anything. When Duke came out of the coma after the Dusty armor treatment incident, I asked him what he remembered."

"What did he say?" Hawk seemed as curious as Falcon.

Doc sighed, "He said he was stuck in that POW camp he assaulted in Vietnam. It was night, he was sweltering, and all the POW's had the voices of Joes, even the dead ones. Except Shipwreck. Shipwreck was Polly, and Polly kept biting his ear."

"That's...that's pretty weird." Falcon knew of the rescue that earned his brother a Medal of Honor and a set of bronze stars, but Duke had never shared the details, and Mamma had always told him not to ask.

"God, I hope he isn't back there now. You want a nightmare, you read about that rescue." Hawk turned to the door, "I'll leave you and Scarlett now, Falcon. I've seen enough to fill the Joes back at base in. Take your time tonight, but I need you both back by morning; we have work to do."

"Sir? But, but we..."

"No buts, soldier, I'm down too many Joes to let two more go. I need as many able-bodied men and women as I can scrape together. The worst is yet to come. Scarlett..."

"Sir." She didn't look aways from Duke. Hawk patted Falcon's shoulder again and strode out of the room. Doc moved to follow.

"I want to meet with the surgeons. They'll compare notes on the ER...it's always good to review. Often something new comes up. Something we might have overlooked. Go on, go closer. It couldn't hurt. It may do some good. For both of you. I'll be checking in with him regularly," with that, Doc was gone, and Falcon was left in the overly bright room with his comatose brother and the woman who loved him.

He watched as she leaned over and kissed Duke's forehead, "don't go. Stay with me, Duke. We've come this far, you can't leave me now," she stopped whispering and kissed him a second time, "Who else is brave enough to laugh at me when I get angry, huh? Who's going to save all those spiders I want to squish?" A tear ran down her cheek, "you have to hold me again. I want you to kiss me again. I want to be with you again. We need to make love more. Come back and make love to me again."

Falcon felt his cheeks burn. Did she know he was here? This was too personal. He stood up and stumbled out the door to a nearby waiting room. She needed space. He felt in the way, as if he'd walked in on them.

He remembered the one time he had walked in on Con and a girl in the barn. Ages ago.

_Falcon must've been all of eight at the time. Mamma had asked him to get another bag of dog kibble. They stored all the feed in the barn; and he had rushed off to grab it, proud that she felt he could carry an entire bag himself. He had pushed open the door and found Con with his hand up Maddy Stevenson's sweater. Maddy squeeked and hid her face and Con turned and threw a curry comb at him,_ "_get lost, Vince!" He'd grabbed the nearest bag of kibble and dragged it out and back to Mamma as fast as he could._

_Later, he'd asked Con if girls liked that kind of thing. Con had laughed, "she seems to." Maddy stuck around for a while. When he came back from Vietnam, she broke Con's heart._

Falcon had forgotten that; his brother had proposed to her. But that was after he had come home a hero in an unpopular war. While he was away, Maddy had fallen in with a group of people fonder of love beads than soldiers. She didn't just reject him, she insulted him and called him a monster. In front of everyone. As if what he'd just come home from wasn't bad enough. No wonder he tried to lose himself in a bottle of Jägermeister.

When Pop let him know that wouldn't work, he'd cleaned up, re-upped and left all the sorrow behind. It was something Falcon hadn't really put together before. If Doc hadn't mentioned the POW camp, or Scarlett been so blunt, he might never have even thought about it.

_Con left home. Con left it behind. Con left CON behind, and Duke was what was left. But where was Con?_

Falcon stood up. He felt his own feet dragging him back to the ICU. The beeping and wooshing become louder the closer he got. He forced himself through the door and found that Scarlett had lain her head down on Duke's chest. He pulled his chair next to hers and flopped into it, "anything?"

Her muffled voice crept from the sheets, "no. Not a twitch." She slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, "I need to go to the cafeteria. I need some coffee, maybe a sandwich. You hungry?"

Falcon's stomach answered before he could, "yeah, yeah, I could use a bite or two." Scarlett stood, but Falcon found himself rooted to the chair, staring at the floor. Scarlett stopped behind him, resting a hand on his head briefly. She reached around and offered him Duke's bandolier.

"Here, hang on to this. Keep it here. He hates to be without it. I'll bring you something when I come back."

Falcon accepted it like a treasure and stared at the well broken in ballistic nylon and the much polished brass buckle, "hey, could you do me a favor? Turn the light off, huh? It's too bright." Scarlett nodded left to find a respite and some chow. Falcon was left with Duke and his bandolier.

A nurse came in with a clipboard. She flipped on the light, smiled down at him, and wrote down readings from all the machines and monitors. Quietly as she had come in, she left. Falcon got up and snapped off the switch. It was better that way; the light from the hallway was enough.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

And there he was, in the dark, with his brother.

Falcon slid the bandolier through his hands. The bloodstains felt tacky. He wondered if they could be soaked out. He sighed and let it flop down in his lap. Something rattled in the top pouch. Falcon shook the belt, and the pouch rattled again. It sounded odd, loose, almost papery.

His curiosity got the better of him, and Falcon unsnapped the top pouch and gently slid his fingers inside. He felt something silky, and pulled out a small braided lock of red hair. Falcon smiled to himself as he ran his thumb over the little memento. But the hair wasn't the pouch's only occupant; there was more. Falcon dipped in again and his fingers felt something metal. Out came a simple gold ring. Falcon thought at first it was the ring Con had offered Maddy, but it occurred to him the golden circle was too big and the design too simple; it was a man's ring. He could barely make out the inscription in the dark: "S. W. Hauser." Well then; it was Con's father's ring. Duke never spoke of his father, but Falcon knew the tall blond man's face-his portrait still hung in the living room. Falcon dared a glance over at Duke.

_Big Brother? There are things we never shared._

Still, there was more in the pouch. A small picture of Jennifer in her cheerleading uniform and two pieces of paper folded tightly to fit into the small space. Falcon opened one; it was a crayon drawing of a what had to be a pony, or a big dog with a bridle. Drew must have done it a long time ago. The folds made a white web across it; it must have been folded and re-folded often. Underneath, Drew had scrawled "Sparkle" and "I love U duke," with a little heart. The "S" was backwards. Falcon shook his head. She worshipped Duke. He rarely came home, he shot her pony, but she eventually forgave and still worshipped him. Duke must've returned the feeling. Guy had a soft spot for his baby sister.

He slowly unfolded the remaining paper. It felt like an old photo, and was just as worn as the pony drawing. It, too, had been opened and stared at many times-on slow days, in dank cells, at low times when a guy just needed to be reminded what he was fighting for. Falcon added his stare to those many. There he was, a little kid, accepting the championship ball from his blond big brother.

Falcon gently refolded the picture and returned everything to the pouch. He snapped it shut, and lay the bandolier on the bed next to Duke. Then he stared into his brother's face.

_Duke, you're there. You didn't leave Con behind. You didn't leave us behind. I know you're there. Come back to us. You don't have to carry home with you; its right here. I'm part of it, like you wanted._


End file.
